


Beef is Awfully Exspensive

by dirtyclaws



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: And also rope, Asphyxiation, Blood, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dubious Morality, Gore, Kidnapping, Maybe even some implied necrophilia, Murder, Other, Questionable use of an axe, Strade is really bad at not killing people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyclaws/pseuds/dirtyclaws
Summary: You didn't want to talk, so Strade finds another use for you.





	Beef is Awfully Exspensive

**Author's Note:**

> woo boy it's a shitshow

It'd been only three days. You almost giggled at that, the phrase looping around in your head.

three days three days three days three days three days three days three days three days 

Three days of screaming and agony and blood and his face and the smell of machine grease and too much, just too much you didn't want to think about, too much that happened and you wish it hadn't.

He was taking you away now. He'd put a bag over your head and pulled you up the stairs, dragging you out the door and shoving you in his car. You tripped and fell into it, smacking your elbow against the door, and he was immediately there, gently rubbing it and helping you in further.

"Woah there buddy, be careful!" He had said with his usual cheerful tone. "Don't want you to get more banged up than you are!"

You could imagine the smile on his face. Happy, cheerful, but with an edge sharp enough to slice through anything.

And now you were here, riding in his car, bumping along what you imagined was a gravel or dirt road. After a few minutes the car stopped, and Strade pulled the bag away. You blinked quickly at the sudden brightness, trying to adjust as Strade got out and pulled the door open for you, helping you out. As soon as the car door shut he pushed you into it, his grin darkening and turning sadistic. His hand wrapped itself around your throat, slowly harder and harder with every second.

"Oh, buddy." Strade was panting as he spoke, pressing down on your neck. "You should see how good you look." You tried to pull in air but came up empty, his hand pressed too hard on your windpipe to do anything but hope.

Suddenly Strade pulled back, dusting his hands on his jeans like he'd touched something dirty. "That's enough, I have bigger plans for you." His usual infectious grin was back, and he went to the trunk of his car.

For a moment, you considered running. You couldn't make it, but at least you could go out trying to get away. It would probably be better than whatever he had planned for you. Before you could act on any of it, Strade's hand clamped down on your throat again.

"Don't do it, liebling. I know that look," he said, his voice soft and threatening. You whimpered and he let go, satisfied you would stay. 

"Now, onto our business!" Strade exclaimed. Over one of his shoulders was an axe, and on his belt was a rope and his ever present hunting knife. "You've been fun, buddy, but honestly I am a little bored. The audience doesn't like you because you won't talk, and neither do I." He grinned and leaned in close. "But that doesn't mean I'll let you go to waste! I've been needing some protein lately, you see, and beef is awfully exspensive."

Your eyes widened as the meaning of his words sunk in, and you turned on your heel and ran. It was too much, it was bad enough to die, but to serve this bastard, to-

Not ten feet in and you went sprawling, falling over as Strade shoved you back down. Every part of your body was in pain, all the bruises and cuts you'd received over the last three days, but even stronger was your panic and want to live. You started crawling away, hearing Strade laugh behind you at your pitiful attempt at escape. He didn't let you get far before stepping down on your back, flattening you to the ground and scraping your cheek against a stick.

"I gotta give you an A for effort buddy." Strade grinned and pushed down on you with his boot, causing a pained gasp to escape from you. "But that wasn't very nice." He pulled back and kicked you in the side, and a loud crack resounded. He had cracked one of your ribs.

Strade stepped around, kneeling in front of you and pulling your head up by your hair as you wheezed in pain. "You see buddy, I was gonna give you a nice quick death," he said. "Tie your feet up, then just let you bleed out. I wouldn't even do anything to you until after you're dead. But you've gone and made things a little complicated." He nudged your side with the axe, rolling you over. "So now, we're going to have one last bonding session together." 

Strade raised the axe above his head, and before you could move or make a sound, brought it down on your thigh.

The pain was blinding. You screamed and tried to move, but Strade brought it down again. Another much louder crack ripped through the air as your bone broke, caving it on itself. You could see the shards of it sticking out as blood poured down. The world started to go fuzzy as you sobbed, but you snapped back as Strade slapped you.

"Don't go anywhere on me yet buddy! We're not done!" He was panting wildly, his face and clothes speckled with blood. Bits of gore and flesh clung to the axe in his hands. He brought it down twice again as you screamed until your voice was raw. 

Strade looked up at you slowly, and you looked down hazily. Your leg just... wasn't there. All that was left was a bloody stump and a chunk of meat and bone sitting next to it.

"Oh buddy," said Strade, still panting. "The look on your face... it's a touch distracting, you know? At any rate, you aren't gonna last much longer."

He started unbuckling his pants as your world faded to black.

"Thanks for the beef, buddy."


End file.
